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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24037429">The White Flower</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mllepumpkin/pseuds/mllepumpkin'>mllepumpkin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adventure, F/M, Investigations, Mystery, Reader-Insert, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:34:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,182</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24037429</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mllepumpkin/pseuds/mllepumpkin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You're a mystery he's eager to solve. But every time he gets closer to the truth, you escape him, leaving a white flower behind you.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Batman/Reader, Batman/You, Bruce Wayne/Reader, Bruce Wayne/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! This is the "Bruce WaynexReader/BatmanxReader" version of my original OC work - to read the OC version, go on FanFiction.net, and type the same username :)<br/>(I focus primarily on Batfleck's version of Bruce Wayne but any version of Batman will do).</p><p>Also, English isn't my first language! So I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors-I'm learning!</p><p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As you closed the door to your hotel room, you let your (h/c) hair free of the wig that's been itching your scalp from this morning. You took off the false glasses and your old and dirty sneakers. As you lifted off your sweatshirt above your head, you revealed your second outfit : a white ruffle-front blouse. You also pulled the stilettos out of the school backpack before putting it away. After making sure no chambermaid would disturb you for room service, you opened the second drawer from one of the nightstands and lifted off the double-fond to get access to your notebook. You searched for the right page, read the last lines to be reminded of the current state of your case, and attached two pieces of paper–a receipt from a jewelry shop and a list of guests for a reception–to the page, before adding some notes. You then reached for the glasses, extracted a little card from one of its sides, and put it into a small printer, which lighted on and began to print two photographs. The first one was a picture of a couple, leaving a jewelry shop ; the man with salt and pepper hair was hidden by a tall girl, fifteen to twenty years younger than him, but he was still recognizable by the characteristic pattern of his gray strands of hair. The second photo was taken two hours later, as the couple was about to enter a hotel lobby, taken from across the streets and from behind, as you couldn't get closer at that time.</p>
<p>- "This will do for now. I still need to prove it was him, though".</p>
<p>You stretched your arms and let yourself fall on the bed. It was a productive day, and you were sure that tonight, you would catch the bastard. You smiled as you took a letter from your notes and unfolded it. It was an invitation to a charity gala this evening, hosted by the one and only Bruce Wayne. Your mother's client and one of Wayne Enterprises' investor who heard of your return to the United States made it a priority that you attended this event, as he was eager to close a deal with your family for a business in Europe, and he was sure that covering you with gifts and such good attentions will convince your parents to sign the contract. Well, at least it will help you get closer to your target.</p>
<p>- "And so we'll meet for real this time, Mr. Wayne".</p>
<p>You went to take a shower and prepared for tonight.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Like salt and pepper</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>- "Must I remind you that you have a gala scheduled tonight, sir ?" said Alfred, looking at his master, quite concerned.<br/>
- "Am I not dressed properly, Alfred ?" asked Bruce Wayne, smoothing the edges of his costume with his fingertips, clearly comfortable with the navy-blue outfit he chose for tonight.<br/>
- "Your beard, Master Wayne".</p><p><em>Shit.</em> He had not gone out in public for three months now and forgot about it. With a groan, he took out his jacket and went back to the bathroom. Alfred sighed as he picked up the garment to get rid of its wrinkles. The handsome millionaire stared at his facial hair in front of the mirror for some time without moving, his hands resting on each side of the luxurious marble sink, wondering when he got these gray strands of hair. He was not surprised that he was getting white hairs this young, considering his stressful life, the lack of sleep, and all the injuries his body had to recover from. The constant fatigue made it harder for him to realize how fast the months had passed. He also couldn't remember the last night he had five whole hours of sleep. He finally grabbed his electric shaver and shaving foam and started to work on his hirsute beard. Strands of hair fell in the sink, and slowly, his jawline made an appearance for the first time in what felt like forever. His face started to look human again, that was if you could ignore the puffiness under his tired yet piercing eyes. After trimming most of his beard, he switched for a razor blade, and then finished by applying a scented and expensive aftershave.<br/>
<br/>
- "This is more like it", said Alfred, the jacket in one hand, and a tie in the other.</p><p>Bruce let Alfred dress him and tighten the tie around his neck, as the butler recapped the night’s schedule and the names of the most important guests with whom he had to spend the evening with. He then slid a white flower in the front pocket of the millionaire’s jacket, to which was attached a bow and a little blue card-“Gotham’s Foundlings”, a charity sponsored by Wayne Enterprises.<br/>
<br/>
- "Voilà ! You are ready", stated Alfred, apparently pleased with himself. "I hope tonight is the night you finally catch a woman’s eye, Master Wayne", he muttered in a weary voice as he put the overpriced cologne away.<br/>
<br/>
Bruce did not take notice of the butler’s comment and read through his speech one last time before he went to welcome his guests downstairs.</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
The reception had already begun when you and your mother’s future associate arrived. You only had time meeting some of his colleagues before someone tapped his silver spoon on his champagne glass to ask for silence. You watched as Bruce Wayne made his way onto the stage, followed by the distinguished clapping of the assembly. While he spoke, you scanned the room, and established a plan to get to the black and grey-haired man the smoothest way possible. You guessed the simplest way was to ask the associate to be introduced to him, as you knew for a fact they were close. You put on your nicest smile and went to the counter to order a strong drink. You needed the rush it gave you to be assertive in a sea of sharks-rich, powerful men, tired of their old wives, who would swallow a young miss like yourself in seconds just to ease their appetites. The speech finally ended, and you locked your eyes on your target, never letting him go in any part of the room without you knowing. You chatted with some gentlemen whose suggestive glances you attracted, but you effectively and politely brushed away any advances they tried to make on you. O, to be a lone woman, in an expensive cocktail dress, during a party. What a bore. They really couldn’t leave women unaccompanied. </p><p>Tired of attracting unwanted attention as you were waiting for the right moment to make a move, you decided to search for your partner for the night. You felt a strong grip strengthen around your arm, and as you turned around, you were welcomed by the beaming face of your mother’s associate-to-be, and Bruce Wayne’s somber gaze.</p><p>- "Ah ! Here you are ! Allow me, Mister Wayne, to present to you this charming flower, (full name), freshly arrived from (european country) !"</p><p><em>Damn. The suck-up was strong.<br/>
<br/>
</em>- Delighted, miss, responded Bruce in a monotonous voice, almost robotic, as he had already repeated this sentence for the hundredth time this evening. Are you (eu/country’s nationality) ?<br/>
- No, I was born in Metropolis, but my mother is. I was only in Europe to study.</p><p>The mustached associate went on and on about his trips to France and his meetings with your parents, for whom he only had warm words ; a speech a little too fervent to be truly honest. Bruce observed the annoyed look on your face, quite amused by the fact that you tried your best to contain it, but failed miserably-although he was too tired to actually smile. He knew this feeling all too well, since from a very young age he had been harassed by toady businessmen in search for funds. He also noticed you kept glancing to the left part of the room, behind him, but he couldn’t figure out why. After some small talk about your life in Europe, you searched for a way to escape this irritating conversation. Your eyes landed on the old lady on your right, one of your associate’s acquaintances, who was apparently embarrassed with her empty glass as she couldn’t find a waiter to get rid of it. You kindly offered to find her a new one as you excused yourself to the two gentlemen.</p><p>Bruce kept an eye on you as you searched for a new glass of champagne for the senior, ready to call one of his stewards to order for new bottles to be opened. He was about to return to his conversation when something caught his eyes. You were talking with the old lady and her nephew, Oliver Johnson, one of the biggest trader in Gotham. The old man was stylish for his age, and Bruce couldn’t help but notice his salt-and-pepper hair. So that’s how he was going to look like when the gray hair would finally take over. </p><p>- "That’s the man you were looking for, then, miss (y/n). Typical", he thought, "another young girl in need of financial security".</p><p>Oliver was the perfect target, as he was known for his frivolous manners. His wife Amanda, living part-time in Asia for business trips, strangely covered for him and denied the rumours-although nobody understood why, even if it was in the name of love. It was a common joke in these upper-scale parties-to guess which girl he would attract tonight, and how long would Amanda be forced to endure the disgrace. She could rightfully ask for an at-fault divorce, but in her 30 years of marriage, she never did. He was about to call it a night, tired of the pompous gossip, but you caught his attention once again. You were vigilant, but apparently not enough for the dark knight. He watched, concerned, as you laughed at one of the old man’s jokes, and put your hand on his hand, swiftly but delicately. He frowned as he was trying to understand what you were up to, was <em>that</em> your approach ? No, you didn’t touch his hand, you grabbed his wrist, but <em>why ?</em> Bruce was perplexed when he saw a glint on the old man’s expensive watch, which quickly turned into faint red dot under the strap. Bruce Wayne watched as you took your leave from the two guests to return to the young moustached businessman.</p><p>- "Alfred, I will need everything you have on (y/n)", ordered Bruce, when he pressed on the device hidden in his right ear.<br/>
- "Ah ! Finally, a lady caught your eye! I was about to lose hope", responded a content and perfectly oblivious Alfred.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Cat and mouse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>To make sure there wasn't a huge age gap between you, the reader, and Bruce Wayne (in his forties in Batman V Superman), I had to determine an age to make the relationship more appropriate. I hope you won't mind! </p>
<p>Thank you for the kudos! Enjoy the chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>- “(full name), 34 years old, comes from an old and wealthy line of european businessmen. She studied Finances in London and Business in Paris, like her mother. Excellent academic background, I must say. She’s currently a Financial analyst for her father’s company in Metropolis. Divorced; I’ve got nothing on the ex-husband either, apart from the conventional rumours of adultery.”, Alfred stated before taking a deep breath, “No police record, no real scandal, she’s the typical product of wealth and education. She’s well protected by her parent’s reputation, nothing out of the extraordinary. I thought you would go for someone more exciting, Master Wayne”, he grumbled.<br/><br/>Bruce Wayne sank into his black leather seat, one hand resting on his chin, as he watched his advanced set of slim, black screens that lighted up your personal information in front of him. He glared at your (e/c) eyes in the picture chosen by Alfred, ignoring the fact that the younger version of you looked quite charming with her graduation cap and gown, illuminated by her genuine and proud smile - so different from your feigned grin this evening.<br/><br/>-  “Alfred, check again. I need to know the names of her associates, her past employers, and I want you to focus especially on anyone who could be in relation with Oliver Johnson.”<br/><br/><em>I know what I saw</em>, thought Bruce. It was either a listening device or a GPS tracker, but this mysterious woman definitely tapped the old man’s watch. He stood only to pour himself a nice refreshing glass of ginger ale. <em>Who are you ?</em> he quietly questioned, as he stared back at you through the screens. A signal rang, and a window popped on the powerful computer’s giant display, showing a red dot moving on a map.<br/><br/>- “Good thing I also put one of my toys on him”, said the dark knight, following the dot. “Oliver has exited Gotham City. Let’s see where he goes, there’s a good chance she will also be there.”<br/><br/>Alfred shrugged, not really understanding this urge to investigate the girl. He was quite disappointed with the choice of his master. You had a lovely face, it was true, and your academic achievements were impressive, sure. But the old butler always thought an eccentric lady would have been a superior match for his dull and spiritless master. He cleared the desk of the empty glass and left. He only heard the Batmobile’s roaring engines fade away in the dark.</p>
<hr/>
<p><br/>You couldn’t really feel the cold’s embrace though all the layers of clothing you wore, but the gentle caress of the wind on your face was a welcomed compensation. You looked down at your phone, and stared at the red dot that had since stopped moving. You raised your head as you read the name of the hotel across the streets. It was a cheap and dirty establishment, perfect indeed to remain anonymous. You figured by that time they had already entered the hotel lobby. You climbed on the nearest fire escape staircase, took out your glasses and put an earphone in your right ear.<br/><br/>- Chamber 54B, sir, said a distant and crackling voice.<br/><br/>With a swift motion of your index finger on your glasses, you zoomed into the hotel room’s outdoor corridor and started searching for Mr. Johnson. After a short time, he appeared out of the stairway and was quickly followed by a gorgeous woman, wearing what looked like-and sparkled like-a gold necklace. You pulled out your camera from your backpack and attached the right camera lens. After a few minutes, you took out your burner phone and called the hotel.<br/><br/>- “Hi, chamber 54B. Could we ask for two glasses of your finest whiskey, please ?” you said in a sultry voice, hoping the receptionist will comply.<br/><br/>The only response you got was an annoyed sigh, something among the lines of “<em>f-cking rich people</em>”, and the call ended there.<br/><br/><em>Can’t believe this worked</em>, you thought, amazed at your luck. Your (e/c) eyes followed the receptionist who came out of the stairway with a tray and two glasses as ordered. He knocked on the chamber’s closed blinds, and you held your breath as the trader opened the door in a bathrobe, his face purple with rage. From your position and thanks to the zoom lens, you could also see the face of the girl, covering herself with the blanket, visibly appalled. You snapped three photos, hoping you could get something from this distance and the weak light that radiated from the two poles in front of the hotel. That’s when you heard them.<br/><br/>The sound of footsteps resonated from the roof.<br/><br/>Without hesitating, you hastily shoved your camera in your backpack and jumped the stairs levels until you finally reached the road. The clinging sound behind you indicated that someone was hurrying down the metal stairs. You took a sharp left, and engaged in a narrow alley between buildings in hopes of losing your tail, but a shadow covered your only source of light. You didn’t had time to see who he was. In hopes of finding cover between a group of tourists, you ran into the streets, but they were empty. This wasn’t Metropolis, always awake and bustling with life, even at night-time. In one last hope of hiding, you hurried under a small train bridge.<br/><br/>As he ran on the roof of the building, he wondered for whom this enigmatic woman was working. You could only be a private detective, but what if you worked for wrong reasons? Which criminal of Gotham-or Metropolis-was interested in Oliver Johnson’s love affairs ? It was surely to blackmail him, Bruce thought, as he got his position and wealth from his marriage, and could lose it all from divorce. He followed you into the bridge, carefully following the wall in case a train passed on the rails next to him. When he lighted his flashlight, he only discovered a trench coat and a backpack lying on the ground. He ran to the exit of the bridge but you were nowhere to be found. There was only two joggers running to the side of the river. He grunted and went back under the arch to retrieve the backpack and the piece of garment. The camera was inside, but the SD card had been removed. As he searched into the pockets of the coat, he felt something soft under his fingers. He pulled out a white flower, on which was tied a blue ribbon.<br/><br/>You parted with the jogger at the limits of Gotham City and gave him your number, as he had been kind enough to show you your way back to the town. For once you were happy you chose to wear sportswear under your coat and how effective a disguise it proved to be. You continued running at a low pace to your hotel room, mindful of your surroundings, constantly tightening your grip on the small device in your pocket. You did not know who found you, but you really avoided the worst scenario possible. You figured it was maybe just a junkie. You certainly had let your guard down these past months, and your lack of training was showing. Leaving evidence behind was a deadly mistake but you had no choice.<br/><br/>Finally back in your hotel room, you quickly connected the SD card to your laptop to find the best pictures and printed them, before adding them to your notebook. You took out the burner phone and dialed a number.<br/><br/>- “I have what you asked for”, you simply said, staring at the compromising pictures of Oliver Johnson and his lover.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Surprise me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Bruce Wayne entered the luxurious residence, he was welcomed by a steward who offered to take his coat in silence. Except for music notes dancing in the air, it was uncommonly quiet for a birthday party. It wasn’t the first time Gotham’s billionaire crashed a party long after dinner had taken place, or during a concerto. Mister McCormick immediately welcomed his friend with two glasses of his finest bordeaux. His arm’s weight on his shoulders and his breath indicated to Bruce that his friend was already intoxicated.<br/><br/>- “Ah! Bruce. I knew you wouldn’t miss my wife’s birthday”, he said in a cheerful yet low voice, “Isn’t she the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen ? As beautiful as the first day I met her”, he added when pointing with his glass to a middle-aged woman with a long shining red gown, standing in front of a pianoforte, nearly spilling his drink.<br/><br/>Bruce Wayne’s gaze immediately went to the pianist. You were performing one of the most beautiful and intricate musical composition he knew and loved. And you were superb. He watched as your hands caressed the keys in a very delicate yet experienced manner. Your soft face was slightly tight due to the concentration the song needed to be performed but you were playing it gracefully. For a moment there, he felt as if you were the only ones to share the room. He came back to his senses when his eyes met yours. You smiled at his apparent astonishment, not missing a single note even without glancing at the music sheet. After you pressed on the final key, you were thanked by a thunder of applause, and a light shade of pink coloured your cheeks. The woman was visibly charmed by your performance and asked for more. You conceded her one last song. Your fingers started to get sore and you were happy it was nearly ending, as you were playing for half an hour already.<br/><br/>At the end of your last performance, the small orchestra took over and started a waltz. You were about to leave the pianoforte to find a partner when Bruce Wayne approached you. After some small talk, you got on your feet, a bit irritated that you had to talk about work instead of enjoying the first dance.<br/><br/>- “It was a pleasure, Mister Wayne. But it would be rude to hold me all to yourself any longer, unless you came all this way to ask me to dance”, you said, in a challenging manner.<br/><br/>He smiled and stretched his arm, offering his hand to you, which you took. Now this party was getting interesting. Of course the infamous woman’s man was an excellent dancer, that much you knew. But you were curious to review his skills personally. He took you among the other dancers and you both entered the waltz. After some steps, you decided it would be best to engage a conversation with him, as you were a little troubled by the situation. It wasn’t every day you had the chance to be singled out by Bruce Wayne. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were intrigued.<br/><br/>- “I didn’t know you were acquainted with my aunt. This is her birthday party”, you started.<br/>- “Trust me, I couldn’t have known you were related. You don’t share the same name. Is she your mother’s sister?”<br/>- “Perceptive, Mister Wayne”, you chuckled, “In no time you will be able to retrace my entire family tree. Even if I’m not sure you will be interested in knowing my ancestors, as you will find them a pale comparison to a name like yours.”<br/><br/><em>Well, don’t mind if I do</em>, thought Bruce. If he had to go back to your great-grandfather’s third cousin to find out what you were scheming, he would. Bruce Wayne felt like playing with you tonight. Having you as a dance partner was his chance to test your patience and investigate your character. He pulled you closer to him, whispering in your ear.<br/><br/>- “I believe I have something that belongs to you, miss (y/n)”, he said, his warm breath caressing your ears.<br/><br/>You could tell he was trying to unsettle you, but you were well-trained. You serenely answered :<br/><br/>- “Really? I can’t think of anything I’ve lost recently.”<br/>- “You have forgotten your coat during my last reception”, he smiled, “Let’s say it was horribly misplaced.”<br/>- “Yes! How silly of me. Of course, you’re right.”<br/>- “I can have it washed, ironed, and delivered to your home, if you wish.”<br/>- “If you don’t mind.”<br/><br/>You locked your gaze in his, hiding the fact you were rather impressed by the gentleman. So he was the one who chased you on the roofs of the old town at night. You couldn’t think of why a mature and respectable individual, and above all Gotham’s famous billionaire, would go for a walk in this kind of neighbourhood. He sure was more than what he showed publicly. You could feel the tension rise between the two of you, as his strong grip wouldn’t allow for an escape. You knew he wanted you to break in his arms. It was a game for both of you and you enjoyed it.<br/><br/>- “You seem to know mister Oliver Johnson well”, he declared after a short silence, knowing very well you understood precisely what he was suggesting.<br/>- “On the contrary. I met you both for the first time the same night.”<br/>- “If I may say so, he is not really a man of good repute. You should be careful when interacting with him.”<br/>- “I am a big girl, Mister Wayne”, you said softly, “I can take care of myself.”<br/>- “I have no doubt about that”, he simply responded with a smirk.<br/><br/>The band hit the last notes and the dance ended before you could continue the conversation. He accompanied you out of the dance area, only releasing your hand when you were close to your aunt. You took out a business card out of your purse and handed it to him.<br/><br/>- “For my coat.”<br/><br/>Bruce Wayne accepted the card before he felt his pager slightly vibrate. He parted with you and retreated to a corridor to read the message on the device. “<em>NEWS ON THE GIRL</em>”. He verified the aisle was cleared before listening to the audio message Alfred left him by pressing on his earpiece. “<em>Seems like your girl isn’t the villain you want her to be. Amanda Johnson just filed for a divorce. Compromising pictures. She hired a private detective, and we both know who that is</em>”.<br/><br/>You took out your own earpiece, a content smile plastered on your face. Your software had successfully tuned to his frequency and you were able to listen to the message left by the butler. So he really was investigating you. Oh, how you loved messing around with men, especially when they proved to be this interesting. Lucky for him, this kind of device could only pick signals issued from the same building. But you didn’t mind; the mystery was stimulating.<br/><br/>Later that night, as the old butler gathered his master’s costume for laundering, he noticed the tiniest mechanism he ever saw attached to the back of the jacket. It wasn’t activated, but it was the same kind of GPS tracker you had put on Oliver Johnson’s watch. It was a blunt provocation, and the Batman loved it.</p><hr/><p>You opened your door to a staff member wearing Wayne enterprise’s uniform and carrying a white box. You thanked and tipped him before sitting on your bed to open the package, revealing your clean trench coat. There was also a note and Bruce Wayne’s business card, on which he added his personal number. “DINNER TOMORROW ? 8 PM. I’M PICKING YOU UP” said the piece of paper. You took out your phone and typed his phone number in. “SURPRISE ME”.<br/><br/>Alfred noticed the smile forming on his master’s lips as his phone buzzed. <em>Well, maybe she isn’t that boring after all</em>, thought Alfred, delighted to finally see a smile on this consistently sorrowful face.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Back In Business</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is slightly shorter than the others but I needed to get back to into the swing of things slowly. The next one is going to be longer, I promise. I hope everyone is safe and healthy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As you stepped out of the restaurant, you felt droplets of water softly sliding on your (h/c) hair. One of the porters quickly provided an umbrella and you watched as your date broke free of your grip on his arm to stop a taxi for you. A soaked businessman, furthermore the one and only Bruce Wayne, standing in the rain for your comfort,  was a sight you thought was very diverting. The gesture was appreciated, but you couldn’t think of why he did not just ask one of the employees to do it for him. You were speculating that he was only showing gentlemanly behaviour either to impress you, or, in case any paparazzi were following him, to give himself good exposure.</p><p>The dinner was indeed lovely. Great location choice, impressive menu, and the lemon meringue pie was divine. He was very courteous all evening, polite, well-mannered, interested. A little bit too interested for your taste, but teasing him without revealing who you were was a welcomed distraction. You had to admit he was well trained as well. If you weren’t aware of your practice’s way and technique, you would have fallen for it. He knew you weren’t an easy target, but you could feel he enjoyed himself anyway.</p><p>- “I can give you a ride, you know”, he said, a bit hurt that you would rather take a cab than be riding one of his fancy and overpriced cars. He was beginning to think his vehicles weren’t helping him anymore with the ladies.</p><p>- “I appreciate your concern, Mister Wayne, but I am perfectly able to go back home by my own means.”</p><p>He held the door for you as you entered the black car and told the driver your home address. You noticed his cheerless smile through the tinted window, as he stood by the car, one hand in his pocket and the other one holding the umbrella, waiting for you to leave. You asked the chauffeur to roll back your window for a second.</p><p>- “I’ve learned something about you tonight, Mister Wayne”, you exclaimed, to be sure he heard you from all the traffic around you.<br/>
- “Really? I hope it’s something pleasant”, he simply responded.<br/>
- “They are all wrong about you. You do have the ability to laugh.”<br/>
- “You’re right”, he chuckled before saying, “I thought I forgot, but tonight you showed me I still know how to.”</p><p>He watched as the window covered your pretty face, and he stood back as the car pulled away from the sidewalk. Not even five minutes into your ride, your burner phone vibrated. You glanced into your tiny - and quite frankly, impractical - designer bag only to read those words from an unknown number. “TREATMENT PLANT. IN 15 MIN”. You sighed, as you recognized the meeting area immediately.</p><p>“Wait, I’ve changed my mind. Turn right, I need to be at this address immediately. I’ll pay extra cash.”</p>
<hr/><p>The clicking sound of your heels resonated with every step you took on the cold wet floor. At this moment, the air is cold and you can see the fog coming out of your lips with every expiration. Your breath gets heavier the more you approach the manly figure watching the city lights from the roof. You stood here, hesitant, waiting for him to face you. But he didn’t seem very keen to turn around. </p><p>- “Hi, Mitch”, you started with a smile, but you were immediately cut off.<br/>
- “So we’re playing with a billionaire this time, I see.”, he snipped, visibly annoyed. “Good thing the boss needs you, otherwise you would really be gone astray. It’s a shame really, you were quite promising at first.”<br/>
- “Amiable, as always”, you muttered.<br/>
- “New mission. Everything you need to know is in this briefcase. Don’t fail, this might be your last chance to be reinstated.”</p><p>
  <span>The agent left without any consideration for you, leaving the bag on the floor. This tiny silver box contained what you almost lost hope finding again. A chance to redeem yourself, to reintegrate your team, to see them again. A chance to restore your honor and take control of your fate once again. To make things right. A chill came down your spine the instant your fingers touched the handle. You felt eyes on you, although you made sure nobody followed you. You quickly locked your fingers on the handle and vanished into thin air, your heels suddenly silent against the slippery floor. A tall, dark silhouette raised from the shadows. It took some steps, and its cape like two bat wings softly brushed against the floor. It abruptly stopped in front of a white object. A white petal. The shade picked it up and smiled.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>- “Seems like the girl is back in business, Alfred”, said a deep, altered voice. </span>
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